creative title here

dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. the state or condition of unnoticed excellence—the hidden talents of friends and coworkers, the fleeting solos of subway buskers, the slapdash eloquence of anonymous users, the unseen portfolios of aspiring artists—which would be renowned as masterpieces if only they’d been appraised by the cartel of popular taste, who assume that brilliance is a rare and precious commodity, accidentally overlooking buried jewels that may not be flawless but are still somehow perfect.

I read somewhere that 23 is the ‘Jordan year’ (for non-sports junkies: 23 = Michael Jordan’s number).

I like the sound of that. I’ve been very apathetic about being 23, mostly because it’s such an ugly number and signifies I’m on the cusp of my mid-twenties. At the same time, I’ve spoken to more than a handful of 25-year-olds who tell me the same thing: “23? You’re very young.”

That initially shocked me. How stark could the difference be between 23 and 25? Then I thought about it. I forget that two years is a long time, potentially replete with many developments and experiences, even if two years is also a very short while. I want to make the most of those two years—and beyond.

I want this to be my Jordan year.